


Nightmare Wrapped in a Daydream

by Itwasgayfanfictionallalong (WrittenMistakes)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate post finale, Bondage, Clothed Sex, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Mind Control, Multiple Orgasms, Not Beta Read, Psychological Trauma, Vaginal Fingering, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, Wanda uses magic for fun stuff, first fic in a long time, for both of them tbh, might be a chapter 1, tbh I don’t really know what she’s doing so the magic is pretty vague in explanation, techinically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29921535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrittenMistakes/pseuds/Itwasgayfanfictionallalong
Summary: Wanda gets stuck with a souvenir from Westview that she’d really rather not take with her.Denied isolation, yet dying from her loneliness, Wanda just tries to cope.But are the methods ever healthy?
Relationships: Agatha Harkness & Wanda Maximoff, Agnes (WandaVision) & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff/Agatha Harkness, Wanda Maximoff/Agnes
Comments: 33
Kudos: 130





	Nightmare Wrapped in a Daydream

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything, especially a longer fic like this. I really need to work on my writing, apologies for any spelling errors. I’ll probably write more for them, and for marvel, so feedback is much appreciated.

She pours herself another cup of coffee, it’s like a life source now, even if she’s not that tired she drinks the hot caffeine religiously. 

It reminds her of the last mornings she spent with him. He never ate or drank, but he’d sit with her at the breakfast table before the illusion of work dragged him away. 

Her perfect little fantasy. 

How pathetic. 

“Here you are, hot stuff, one big healthy breakfast just for you.” 

Oh and she’s here. 

With a wink and cheeky smile the woman turns away and sways back over to the kitchen area of the cabin, doing dishes or something. Wanda didn’t really care. 

“Agnes” was supposed to stay trapped in westview, far away where she wouldn’t ever have to think about her for as long as possible. 

But the citizens of westview weren’t happy, they shouted at her, “you can’t just leave that witch here!”, they had crowded her again. 

It was too much on top of the incoming sirens. 

She doesn’t even remember grabbing the woman before taking off. It was as if she had dissociated before eventually coming back to the real world and noticing a pair of arms wrapped tightly around her neck as she floated up in the air. 

She look with wide eyes down to see the body her own hands held onto tightly. 

“Gee what a tough crowd, huh?” That usual amused voice, now laced with a slight nervousness was spoken against her ear. 

Wanda wonders if if Agnes thought she was going to drop her. 

She wonders if she wants to. 

One thing led to many more, and now here they were. 

Alone, mostly, working to better understand her magic. 

All with her own personal housekeeper and teacher, when she needed Agatha back anyways. 

Wanda looked down in disdain, they didn’t have much obviously, yet Agnes’ cheery suburban bullshit attitude was relentless. 

“It’s oatmeal.” She commented dryly. 

“Well I would have made pancakes but someone forgot to go shopping.” 

Sometimes she regrets making her like this. So happy and snarky all the time. A nosy housewife with no neighbors to spy on. 

“We can’t go shopping. We’re in hiding, you realize that right?” 

Agnes looked over her shoulder at Wanda with mischief in her eyes, almost as if she were herself again. 

“Well I can’t argue against keeping a pretty thing like you all to myself.” 

What was the point in even asking.

Wanda eats her oatmeal in silence. 

__________________________________

She hasn’t needed Agatha lately.

Wanda picks up this new chapter quickly, almost naturally. Shes creating runes and casting spells like she had been born doing this. 

She could make a tree grow from a twig, and she could just as easily destroy it without batting an eye. 

All in the span of a few weeks. 

Such a short time since she had left Westview, since she lost her family. 

She wanted them back. 

“Wanda?” 

She missed them so much it hurt.

“W-Wanda!” 

The world comes back in a crash. The dresser, the table, and she was pretty sure even the bed she was on. 

Wanda doesn’t even sit up before two shaky hands grab hers. 

“You had the whole place shaking there, sweetie.” Agnes looks wearier than normal, “did you have a bad dream?” 

She sounded so concerned, so caring, so full of love that was fake. It was all fake. 

Wanda grabbed the other woman and instantly had her pinned to the bed, no magic needed. 

“Wanda?” There’s something there that could be fear, she’s not sure. 

But as the young witch straddled the others waist she saw something wet on her cheeks that mirrored the tears on her own. 

When they slept they shared her nightmares. They could all feel her pain. 

And now she could feel Wandas pain too, and when they slept, they shared the same terror of Wandas subconscious. 

Wandas too tired to even hurt Agatha anymore right now. 

She’s so tired. 

“Get in bed.” 

“Okay.”

Wanda doesn’t push her away when she moves in too close, nor does she resist when Agnes wraps her arms around her. 

She just goes back to sleep.

______________________________

“You don’t even know what that spells for.”

Her words are laced with a venom that only seems to fuel Wandas anger. 

“What? Are you hoping learning this will help you bring your little family back? There’s nothing to bring back, they weren’t even real, Wanda. This is pathetic.” 

It only occurred to her at first that she had broken Agathas arm when her loud cry filled the room. 

She was so focused on the runes in the air in front of her, consumed with perfecting and grasping them that she barely noticed the hot flash of anger that flowed through her entire being. 

Wanda turns around to see the other witch biting through her lip, blood dripping down her chin as she stayed helplessly bound by Wandas magic. 

She hadn’t meant to hurt her to be honest, but she didn’t feel bad about it either. 

“Why don’t you just get it over with and kill me?” She asked through gritted teeth as Wanda waved her hand over her unnaturally bent arm, putting it back in place good as new. 

“Because you haven’t earned it.” 

________________________________

She doesn’t finish the lesson that night, she never figures out the runes. 

Wandas too tired to keep going, and hearing Agatha’s grating words was something she could only take so much of. 

Wand sits on the bed as she waved her hand in the air and Agnes is back, sitting on the floor, smiling up at her adoringly as if she hadn’t just broken her arm. 

“You look beat, dear. How about I whip us up some dinner?” 

She’s so handsy, always quickly to take Wandas hands or wraps her arms around her. 

Wanda always look in her eyes to search for a mad woman screaming beneath them but she never seems to find her. 

Agnes never whines or complains about anything really. 

Not about the nightmares that woke them both up shaking in the middle of the night, not the aches and pains throughout her body, nor how different their life was compared to the suburban habitat she was designed for. 

Wanda wanted to make her hurt, make her scream, but the closest she ever got was hurting her with her own pain every night. 

They’re eat potatoes that night when Wanda quietly asks her, 

“Agnes, do you want to be here?” 

“Well of course! Where else would I be?” 

“You don’t miss Westview? Comfy suburbs? Better food?” 

Agnes laughs as she takes another bite. 

“Well it definitely isn’t as glamorous, but as long as you’re here I’d never dream of being anywhere else.” 

Wanda doesn’t look up at her, taking a bite of her own before asking quietly, dryly,

“You don’t miss Ralph?” 

She only looks up when she doesn’t get a response, and a chill runs down her back like cold water as she finds Agnes’s confused gaze, head tilted. 

“Ralph?”

“Yes, Ralph. Your husband?” 

Wanda flinches as Agnes reached over, only gently rest the back of her hand against Wandas forehead. 

“Sweetheart did you hit your head?” Agnes asks her, this time her voice was soft, gentler than usual, and now Wanda was the one feeling confused, a feeling she was no stranger to anymore. 

“I’m pretty I’m _your_ wife, honey.” 

Dinner ends early that night. 

_________________________________

Wandas frustrated. 

She can’t get the damned spell right. 

She can’t make the runes look like they do in the book. 

Why can’t she get it right? Isn’t she supposed to be powerful?

And now she can’t even ask her. She can’t bring herself to, not after that. 

She avoided Agnes all night and now even into the morning, not even going out for breakfast. 

She sits in her room and works. With no success. The tension growing worse and worse with each mistake. 

The door opens behind her, but she ignores the intrusion, she swears she’s about to get this one right, just a little more. 

But not quite. 

She doesn’t remember what Agnes said, only the sound of porcelain shattering. 

The rune was ruined. 

She turns around. 

There’s coffee splattered on the floor surrounded by the shards of her mug, and little drops of red splashed amongst it as Agnes stared at her hands curiously.

She quietly approaches her, keeping herself composed. It’s fine, she was good at cleaning up these kinds of messes. 

“Wanda?” Agnes is quieter than she’s ever been, her bittersweet gaze locked on her as she healed her hands, “are you mad at me, darling?”

Wanda looks up at her, eyes wide and full of shock. 

This wasn’t some silly sitcom caricature anymore. It was something else entirely. 

____________________________

She wants to give up on learning this spell and that only makes the bitterness inside of her grow, it fuels her self loathing to know that she can’t learn this without her. 

She didn’t write Agnes to feel that way, she has no idea where this came from. The Westview citizens didn’t have the free will to create their own narrative. 

What scared her the most was asking wether this had come from Agatha, or from herself. 

She hasn’t spoken to Agatha in a month. 

____________________________

She moved on to a different page of the Darkhold. She’s picking these ones up just like before, yet this time it felt different, incomplete. 

She misses Vision, she misses Billy and Tommy. Her husband, her babies. 

Her “wife” is still trying to put that damned mug back together. It’s hard with her hands still wrapped up like that. 

They don’t really speak as they sit at the table with their own separate tasks, Wandas focusing on the magic at her fingertips and Agnes is humming a tune that’s not familiar to Wanda at all. 

Wanda puts the book and takes a long drink of some tea, peering over her cup to silently watch Agnes mess with two large fragments of the shattered mug. 

She didn’t get it. 

She had offered to fix it herself, it would have been easier anyways. 

“Oh no dear, that was my fault, I should fix it, it’s alright.” She insisted, giggling as if her hands hands been shredded to ribbons seconds ago. 

That was the other thing. Why had she bothered wrapping them? Wanda healed her flawlessly. 

This facade was falling apart, it was like Westview all over again. Agnes was barely Agnes anymore, Wanda wasn’t sure what she was now. 

Were the subtle changes her own fault? Or was Agatha breaking through? Wanda hadn’t spoken to her since that night. The thought of hearing her ridicule, her disgust over the ridiculous mistake forming in her crumbling hex, that might somehow be Wandas fault, it causes her cheeks to burn. 

She didn’t understand anything anymore, not even her own feelings. 

“Agatha?” 

The older woman only quirks a brow curiously, waiting for Wanda to continue, her usual coy smirk on her face, Wanda tenses slightly. 

“How do I continue this pattern?” She holds the notebooks out to her, showing her the runes scrawled on the faded page. 

“This spell is like the one from the first chapter but I can’t cast this the same way as that one.” 

Agnes, Agatha, who ever, looked at the pages or a long minute, Wanda felt her hand shake slightly as she held out the book. 

Her face twinges slightly, she blinks, Wanda can’t read her eyes, she could never really read Agatha. 

But she’s both disappointed and relieved, the older witch just looks at her with a sheepish smile. 

“I’m sorry dear, I really don’t know.” She laughed slightly, “you know I’ve never really understood these little tricks of yours.” 

Wandas brows furrowed and Agnes holds up her bandaged hands and waved them with a smile, “not like they’d do a clumsy thing like me any good, but don’t worry dear I’m sure you’ll get it!” 

“You know you don’t need to wear those right? I healed your hands. You’re fine.” 

Agnes looks at her hands, and as if she were skeptical of Wandas claim, unwraps one, staring at the smooth, uncut flesh with a deep frown. 

“But....honey,” she seems almost hesitant to look up at Wanda, and Wanda is hesitant to stare right back. 

“Why do they still hurt?” 

Wanda doesn’t have an answer, and she wishes hurting Agatha would feel good, satisfying at least, but really it’s just sad. 

________________________________

It’s quieter than the past few times they met, which surprised her considering everything. 

There were no feral looks, no rage, if anything she looked surprised initially. 

And that surprise turned to a weary, cautious anticipation. 

But neither of them bring up the elephant in the cabin, Wanda gets to the point, she shows her the darkhold, asks her questions, and Agatha just looks at her like she’s an insect with her wings torn off. 

Disgust, pity, yet indifferent to the situation. 

It’s been so long that Wanda feels put off seeing such dark and cruel expressions on the usually cheerful and sweet face. 

Wanda hates how easy the spell come to her with Agathas explanations, how the runes form perfectly with her guidance. 

“What else is it that you want, Wanda?” 

That catches her off guard, she frowns at the older woman, too afraid to ask what she means, too afraid of admitting that she might know the answer. 

Agatha glares at her silence and she winces and forces herself to turn away as she raises her hand. 

She hates herself, and her unforgivable feelings, her unraveling sanity that was at the mercy of her pain and loneliness. 

“I’m sorry, but it’s time for you to go.” 

________________________________

It’s been 3 months, Wandas learned so much, picked up so many useful tricks. 

The cabin looks nicer, furnishings and touches that she was proud to say weren’t illusions. 

The ability to conjure physical objects, though by taking them from another location, was really coming in handy lately. 

She’s learned other things too. 

Wandas pouring them some coffee, now in newer, shinier mugs, while another part of her is in the bedroom, continuing to learn, continuing to conjure spells that come to her like she’s known them all her life. 

There’s protection spells in and around the cabin, and a neat little trick that made the cabin smell of lavender. They were little spells but she enjoyed playing with them. 

And Agnes was overjoyed when Wanda started conjuring up things they didn’t have before, like food, new clothes, furnishings. 

At first Wanda just took her excitement as being happy to finally have nicer things, but then Wanda realized that it was a bit more than that. 

“Oh hon I knew you could do it! I always believed in you.” 

Wanda feels oddly anxious with the woman’s tight embrace around her, her cheek pressed against her, too close, almost close enough to- 

“Wanda?” 

“Hm?”

She never noticed that Agatha was an inch shorter than her, she also never noticed how soft she looked when she wasn’t traumatizing the hell out of her. 

“You’re hurting me, Wanda.” 

What?

Wanda blinks and focuses to realize that Agnes’ arms are no longer lovingly wrapped around her waist, instead now Wandas own hands were around the other woman’s neck, holding her up against the cabin wall. 

Wanda doesn’t feel fear, nor regret for her action and it’s that fact that surprises her more. Was this the person she was becoming? 

She brings herself to look at Agnes again but this time she gasped, it was no longer the sweet housewife, but the witch in her grasp. 

She struggled and glared at her and still Wanda can’t find the ability to make herself let go, as if her body had a mind of its own, instead she squeezes tighter and Agatha chokes.

“What are you gonna do? Are you finally going to kill me, Wanda?” Her strained voice still manages to mock her, and with what little air she had left she laughed. 

“Do it.” 

Kill her. 

“Kill me, Wanda!”

Monster. 

“Show everyone what you really are!” 

There’s a flash of light beaming behind her and when Wanda turns her head her eyes fill with terror.

She looks on at the live studio audience and sees everyone she’s ever cared for. 

Her friends. 

Her parents. 

Pietro. 

Vision. 

Her sons. 

Now they could all see the unstable monster she really was, now they can see that she was- 

Wanda bolted up, drenched in cold sweat, her chest heaving with each shaky breath.  
She can’t see anything in the dark room, and even if there were light the tears flooding her eyes kept her from seeing the arm that gently pulled her back down into the mattress, pulling her close into some kind of warmth. 

Wanda relaxes, she just wants to feel safe. Her mind wanders to Vis, she pictures his arms holding her close, his fingers carding through her hair, lulling her back into sleep. 

“It’s just a nightmare, Wanda. Just another one of your ridiculous nightmares.” 

She can’t remember Visions voice ever having such a cruel inflection.

___________________________________

Wandas head is pounding, her face rested in her hands to try and block out the light of the morning around her. 

“Alright babydoll, here ya go.” Agnes places a plate and a mug down in front of Wanda on the table, sighing as the younger woman only groaned in response to the smell of food and coffee. 

She sits next to her and puts an arm around her shoulder, there’s a bottle of pain killers nearby and she nudges it towards Wanda. 

“Cheer up buttercup, just eat a little bit, and you’ll be right rain!” 

Wanda peaks from behind her fingers and eyes the big mug of coffee and delicious looking breakfast in front of her. 

Slowly she brings herself to take a sip, to take a bite, and she’s melting at the flavors, the warmth, it turns her cheeks read and that pressure on her head was slightly alleviated. 

“Mmm, Agnes-“ she swallows a bite down with another drink of coffee, “how did you-“

“I told you it’d help, honey.” Agnes presses a kiss to the side of her head and a different kind of warmth flows through her body. 

Wanda gazed at her for a moment, not sure what was going through either of their minds right now, not completely sure if she cared.

“Why did you do this for me?” 

“Because, Wanda,” a soft hand cups her face, and Wanda doesn’t flinch away.” 

“I love you.” 

___________________________________

Wanda stays in her room most days now. 

She could easily astral project and multitask, go somewhere else for the day, but she’d rather just learn, to just stay alone. 

She ignores the knocks on the door. 

“Wanda? Honey I made dinner!” 

Wandas flipping through the pages, even going back to read past ones. 

“I’ll put on some TV! Did you forget that we have a TV now?! I can put on all your favorites!” 

Wait. 

What does she know about Wandas favorite shows?

The door comes flying open, Agnes only flinches slightly, but she doesn’t struggle when Wanda pulls her up by her collar, backing her up as a red flare shimmered around her hands. 

“What is this?!” She demanded, and Agnes looked confused, almost scared. 

“W-Wanda I don’t understand-“ 

“I never made a TV! And what would you know about what I like?!” 

Agnes gasps when her back presses against the wall behind her, and now she finally puts her own hands up over Wandas, seeming unsure of what to do. 

“Darling there’s no need for an outburst,” her voice slightly wavers, “and what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t know my favorite lady’s favorite things?” She winked at Wanda, as if trying to break up the painful tension, and maybe loosen her grip a bit. 

Wanda doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t stop but it’s obvious she’s watching, deciding what to do with her. 

“Do you not want me to love you anymore?” 

Wanda’s eyes widen and she goes to speak but it’s like she doesn’t know what to say at that. 

Agnes looks smiles sadly at her, reaching out to caress her cheek. 

“You wanted a loving spouse, didn’t you Wanda? Someone who could be there to fill your ever growing loneliness? Aren’t I doing good enough?” 

In that moment there’s a point where Wanda draws back. 

Would she hurt her? 

Let her go? 

Had she overstepped a little too much with that last line? 

Agatha winces when the back of her head smacked against the wall and the tight hands were around her neck and squeezing the air from her lungs. 

But what really took the strength out of her legs and her ability to think straight was the soft lips ravishing her own, the forceful, dominant power behind the act. 

She wants to fight back but she can’t bring herself to. 

The older witch clings to her for dear life as her legs shook under her and Wanda just presses in further, continuing to claim her mouth as her body pressed against her own. 

Eventually she has to pull back for air, and mercifully she allows Agatha to breathe as well. 

“And here i thought you were mad at me.” She says between shaky breaths, grinning at Wanda and gazing at her with half lidded eyes, looking coy as she licked her reddened, abused lips. 

She yelps, suddenly lifted up and before she can say more, Wanda is throwing her on their bed. 

Agatha reaches out to grab Wanda, to pull at her clothes, but Wanda is quick, flicking her wrist and pinning Agathas wrists above her head. 

“Oh that’s not fair.” 

“I could gag you too.” 

They share a look and the Agatha bites her lip as Wanda straddles her waist.

It doesn’t take much to get the sounds from her that she actually wants to hear. 

Agatha whines and squirms beneath her, and Wanda uses her magic to hold her in place. She rips her blouse open while kissing her neck, sucking a dark mark in the spot right between her shoulder and her neck. 

“H-hey I liked that shirt.” She complains, as if Wanda couldn’t easily fix it, but Wanda doesn’t pay her any mind anyways. 

Her bra is the next victim to Wandas impatience, and Agatha feels her face heat up as it’s practically torn off of her. 

Wether because she was stimulated or because the cabin was freezing today, her nipples are perky and sensitive, and a low moan unwillingly escapes her as Wandas thumb grazes over one, fondling, squeezing and pinching enough to make her shake and arch her back. 

“So soft....” was all the younger woman whispered. 

She knows she’s probably soaked by now, especially with the way she shook and how the sounds she made were becoming more and more frustrated. 

Wanda definitely knows she’s getting worked up, that familiar heat building up in her lower stomach and that ache between her legs was getting harder to ignore. 

“Come on quit teasing already” 

“Be good and I will.” 

She nibbles at her collarbone as she moved her hips down, grinding on Agathas knee through her sweats, humming softly against the other woman’s warm skin. 

She keeps doing this, grinding down harder and harder, focusing on her pleasure and reliving all the pent up frustrations that have been building inside of her for months. 

Agathas about to protest about her own untreated needs but just as she’s about to Wanda takes one of her nipples between her teeth and pinches the other roughly between her fingers. 

“O-oh fuck-“ she whimpers, wishing she had more freedom to struggle and take over this situation. 

“Language, Agatha. That’s not allowed on this kind of show.” Wanda warns her, yet there’s something teasing behind her words. 

Agatha glares at her, about to ask her “but this is?!” though she chooses to refrain, hoping that Wanda will make good on rewarding her for behaving. 

Her movements are getting more and more uncoordinated, the moans started to slip from her louder and more uncaring, lost in a moment of bliss. 

Wanda falls forwards as she brings herself down one last time, grinding herself right against Agathas knee, hiding her face in pillowy breasts as an almost relieved sound leaves her, shaking to her core as a flashing white pleasure washes over her. 

Agatha blinks, taking in the gorgeous sight that just happened before her. Wanda sure was beautiful. 

She’s about to make a comment, something snarky that’d kill the blissful peace permeating through the bedroom, but Wanda must have read her mind. 

Can she do that yet? 

She pulled Agathas head up by her hair and met her in another overpowering kiss, forcing her tongue into her mouth, humming into her. It was making her dizzy.

Wand pulls away and yanks Agathas head up more.

“I like it when you’re quiet like this.” She she whispers into her ear, accent heavy in her voice, pressing a kiss against it, while her hands traveled downward. 

She pushes Agatha’s skirt up over her thighs taking in how soaked her panties were already, both of them felt a bit of anticipation as Wanda pulls them down, Agatha probably more so than Wanda. 

She’s so frustrated at how easily she unravels, Wandas fingers gently sliding into her, teasing at her entrance, brushing against her yet never giving her the satisfaction of plunging in. 

“I could just leave you here, you know.” She smirks at the panic in Agathas eyes, knowing fully well that Wanda wasn’t lying. 

“W-what do you want?” She forces herself to ask, pushing down her pride and feeling the heat rise up in her cheeks. 

Wanda pulls her fingers from her and examines them, tilting her head. 

“Already such a mess, and yet I’ve barely even touched you.” 

“Wanda...” 

‘Don’t make me beg.’ She wants to plead, yet that in itself would be begging. 

She flexes her hand and Agatha squirms as the red aura lights up around her fingers, and Wanda doesn’t even give her a second to ponder over her actions before putting those fingers right back where they had been a second ago. 

She cries out, electrifying warmth’s drawing out the most debauched sounds she’s ever heard herself make. 

Wanda isn’t teasing anymore, already three knuckles deep into her, curling and scissoring, stretching her open while her thumb finds her clit.

She looks amused at how much Agatha struggles, trying to fight off her own orgasm from coming so soon. 

Wanda coaxes it out of her effortlessly, watching her ride out the wave of pleasure with excitement in her eyes. 

She wasn’t done with her yet. 

Agatha had expected her to pull out after a few minutes, yet Wanda continued, overstimulating as she seemed to push in deeper, the red aura flaring up brighter with something so powerful it was Agatha trembling. 

She was already almost over the edge again before Wanda pulled back, making her whine as she tried to move back down onto the fingers, but Wanda keeps them far enough before thrusting them back into the spot that made Agatha see stars. 

“Why were you pretending to be Agnes?” 

She pulls back again when she doesn’t get an answer, making the woman beneath her bite her lip in frustration as she squirmed. 

“You could have left, smothered me with a pillow while I was sleeping....” Wanda tries to think of other alternatives, shrugging,”but instead you stick around and play housewife because?” 

“It’s not like I was the entire time,” their eyes locked, Wanda was searching her, as if looking to make sure everything she was saying was the truth, “you might be powerful, but you were starting to slip after you caught all those soft feelings.”

Wanda hums, thinking, she gives her a couple of inches back, petting her dark hair. 

“You still didn’t answer my question, sweetie.” She cooed lovingly, making sure her mockery was evident in every syllable of the pet name. 

She picks up the tempo again and Agatha looks like she could barely focus on what Wanda was asking her, getting closer again to another climax. 

Deep down Wanda already knows the truth, she knows what happened with this hex and why it was so easy for Agatha to get free from it. She just wanted to hear why she decided to stay. Why she said the things that she did. 

“Do you love me, Agatha?” 

What a ridiculous question. Right? 

Wrong answer.

Those red eyes seem to pierce into her soul, the magic around her and in her tightening, and something tight around her neck was added to it, her head was spinning. 

“Do you like being my wife, Agnes?” 

Wanda smiles, beautiful, hot, and dangerous. 

Like the sun. 

She cries when her second climax tears through her, Wandas fingers undoing her completely. 

She lets her go and she falls back completely, trying to catch her breath, still lost in a warm cloud of bliss. 

Wanda eventually joins her back on the bed, wrapping her arms around her and resting her chin on her shoulder. 

Their eyes meet again and Agatha can still see a question lingering behind them, uncertainty and longing there behind it. 

Why did she want to stay? 

“Oh hon,” she pulls Wanda in and places a soft kiss to her lips. 

“Why wouldn’t I stick around when you’re so much fun?” 

_________________________________

She screams, no one can hear it, or at least no one is choosing to hear it, but never the less she screams. 

That fool, that lonely love struck fool. 

Designing a new narrative to fill her empty heart, changing it until it fit the mold of her fantasies perfectly. 

She might be trapped now, forced to watch herself play this new parodic role, but it’s only temporary. 

One day she’ll get out.


End file.
